What being an English student taught me.
by Ella Tomes
Let me set the scene. It’s August 26th, 2022, and my family and I are making the drive up to drop me off at college for forever (not actually, but at the time it felt that dramatic). Of course, I end up on the 3rd floor of Conover Kronshage, where there is no elevator and no air conditioning. I attempted to stick over twenty pieces of tape onto each photo I brought with me, just for the pictures to slowly but surely unstick and fly off the mysterious coating on our concrete walls. Maybe it was a sign from the dorm room powers from above that I would have to put my old memories away and somehow create new ones here. As my family drove away, I felt so in shock, like I had missed my bus (which I would, ironically, do for the next four years. Chasing the 80 down is a very vulnerable experience. Being in this new city, with new people and new opportunities, weighed heavily on me. My only hope was to go back home. Yet I stayed. And I’m glad I did. I did not know it then, but some of the biggest ways I would change here would happen inside English course classrooms.
I always knew I would major in English. Reading and writing came easily to me until I walked into my first English class here. Close reading was the phrase I kept hearing. I didn’t know what it meant. I thought it meant analyzing every single word and period mark. So in my first official college essay, in my first English class, I did exactly that. But when I got that paper back, a C was scribbled down at the bottom, my heart sank. I felt confused. Being a first-generation student, I didn’t know whether that C meant I wasn’t supposed to be in English. Looking back now, I realize it was never about the letter grade or how many double meanings I could find in quotes. It was about getting my hands dirty. It was about pushing my mind to see what new things I could observe. It was about messing up, getting back up, and trying again. That’s when the real growth started. After sitting at my desk for hours trying to pick out quotes, with my head feeling like mush, I still knew that somehow I had grown a little bit more each time.
Throughout my four years, I took so many life-changing classes. Walking in on the first day of lecture, trying to find the perfect assigned but not assigned seat for the semester, and not even knowing what the journey ahead would be. My most vivid memory of class was English 242. I took it with Professor Cannell, and I had one of the most eye-opening conversations and listenings of my life. I read Frankenstein for the first time and got to hear the infamous debate over whether monsters are born or created. I got to read Jane Eyre for the first time, and it’s now one of my all-time favorite books. Those hours I spent listening to Professor Cannell explain the stories in such amazing detail confirmed something for me: that I wanted to be an English student and that I loved books. If I had to leave a couple of amazing English class recommendations, besides this class, some would be English 400 Advanced Composition with Professor Kelm, English 314 The Structure of English with Professor Wanner, and English 672 Afro-American Literature with Professor Edmonds.
As I sat with all the English grads this past May 9th, I felt nervous and scared about what my future holds (and if you saw me outside State Street Walgreens with Pepto-Bismol in hand, no, you didn’t). It felt like I had just been getting the hang of this thing called college, and now suddenly it’s over. Another chapter closed. But as I listened to the student speakers and the English department leaders, I could feel the fear slowly passing through me. I realized I am ready for this world. And I chose a major that can bend to any field I want. I can read closely, write intentionally, and speak clearly. So this is the end of my story here as an English student, but it’s just the beginning of my life. And I think for the first time, I feel ready to turn the page.
